


Five Minutes

by Murdocisurproblematicfave



Category: Blur, Blur band
Genre: 90s blur, M/M, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-14 11:29:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14135178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murdocisurproblematicfave/pseuds/Murdocisurproblematicfave
Summary: Graham wasn't having the best of days. As Blur was becoming too much to handle, his mind consumed by blackness like he'd never known it before, the other band members go out and get hopelessly drunk before a gig. The guitarist could never have predicted how pivotal that night would be.. but sometimes the best things happen when they aren't tainted by the weight of expectation.





	Five Minutes

Things weren't going well for Graham. He felt heavy as he sat in the green room, and lifting his elbows onto the table in front of him to bury his face in his shaking hands was no small feat. When his mood got this low, everything felt like an up-hill struggle. He couldn't bear to look up to the stage door waiting at the edge of the room. It felt more like a doorway to hell than anything today. Like he'd open it and be met with nothing but flames.

Graham rubbed at his eyes, which actually made him feel more tired than anything. Blur had a concert in twenty minutes, and he hadn't yet consumed a drop of alcohol. The guitarist quickly reasoned that perhaps that was the problem. He stilled a moment, willing himself to move before he then dragged himself from the rickety plastic chair he'd been sitting on.

The room was cold, and nearly empty. It wasn't the kind of green room he was used to, but the venue they were playing in Newcastle tonight wasn't the nicest either, so it made sense. The others had taken one look at the place and left to go drink somewhere else before the show. They probably went to the pub nearby, seeing as the tour bus was conveniently parked up beside it. Graham had decided he wanted to be anywhere that they weren't, and so stayed put.

Graham shuffled over to the drinks cabinet, which was surprisingly well stocked. The venue owners evidently didn't know much about decor, but they certainly knew musicians. He pulled out an entire bottle of red wine and then sat back down at the large circle table in the centre of the room.

It was only then that Graham became aware of the bar light above him whirring continuously, and he absentmindedly squinted up at it when he noticed it flicker before taking a long swig of wine. The journey on the tour bus here had been nothing less than torture. Something about this depressive episode had just made everyone unbearable. Dave had been joking around with Alex, seemingly running about the bus like maniacs from what Graham could hear from his bunk.

Damon had been playing his weird 80s synth music loudly in the living room for hours, the smell from the numerous buds he'd lit gradually seeping into the bedroom. Usually Graham would have joined him, but this particular depressive episode had confined him to his bed for days. Plus, there was the fact that he and Damon were...going through something right now.

At this thought Graham brought the wine bottle to his lips again, staring blankly at the sickly pale yellow wall in front of him. Before he drank however, the screeching sound of microphone feedback startled him, and he jumped a little in his seat. Evidently, the tech guys were starting to set the stage.

Graham inhaled deeply, and after a few moments took a cursory look around him, trained by the way Damon would often sneak up on him when he was day dreaming, grabbing his shoulders or lower back to make him lurch foreword. _Yup_ , Graham thought to himself before he turned back and drank some more wine. Still no sign of the others. They could be so useless sometimes, it was a wonder that this whole blur thing hadn't fell through a while ago.

There was no doubt that the four of them were a solid band. Of course, the drinking had affected the quality of their latest string of performances; that was nothing less than fact at this point. Graham had gotten into the habit of taking a whole wine bottle on stage, drinking it throughout the performance until there was nothing left and his vision blurred.

The others did the same, but Dave always seemed to be the most coherent after a show. He had always been able to hold his liquor though, so no surprise there. Damon was a wreck when he drank. Too often during a gig Graham would totally forget the audience was even there, tuning himself to Damon's wavelength. He would watch the singer jump erratically as he screeched out his vocals to 'Song 2', pushing his sweat-sodden hair back at the end of a song and leaning over to pull the glass beer bottle he kept by the speakers to his eagerly parted lips.

Offstage, Damon would usually then proceed to spurt unsolicited opinions like a running tap, occasionally making intermittent jokes at Graham's expense in front of the others...It wasn't Graham's place to judge though. He was even _worse_ when he had a wine bottle to hand. At this thought, Graham took a deep breath out and placed the wine bottle he held on to the table, pushing it just out of reach. Maybe he could stop himself from being an embarrassment today, maybe he could remain sober.

When Graham was drunk, his awkward attempts to initiate something with the singer were pathetic, and he was certainly not a stranger to the feeling of stinging regret when he woke up the next day, alone and hungover in his bunk. He would routinely cringe at the way he would open up to Damon like a wound, spilling his darkest thoughts to him on the tour bus leather sofa without a second thought.

It always surprised Graham that whenever a coherent moment struck him during those drunken heart-to-hearts, he would notice that Damon was actually _listening_. No matter how convoluted a story Graham was telling, how his scattered thoughts didn't really align and his strained sentences were made short and child-like by the lack of inhibition. The singer would always listen.

Damon's unwavering attention was something Graham would only see on those nights, when the rest of the band were asleep and the singer had no one to show off to, no one to put on an act for. Because really, at his heart Damon was an instinctive performer. Maybe he wasn't great at acting, but his extroverted need to grab the attention of as many people in the room as possible was always evident. He wore his emotions upon his form without fear, and Graham had always been envious of that.

Graham derived most of what he knew about Damon from those conversations, as despite his drunkenness, he would always retain what the singer divulged with him. Perhaps it was because Damon thoroughly interested him.. maybe it was something more than that. Graham hadn't yet decided his stance on their relationship, and the fact that Damon was so distant when they were out in the open was a major factor in his ambivalence.

Though, Graham did let himself get carried away. The guitarist visibly cringed when a memory suddenly hit him full force, and he twitched a little before repositioning his glasses and bringing up his hand to bite at his blunt nails.

The time he had asked Damon for a kiss.

Graham hadn't betrayed much at the time, (which was probably helped by the fact that he had almost drank himself into the ground that night), but he had been shocked by Damon's eagerness to reciprocate the affection. Watching the singer's face move towards his was a little overwhelming, and Damon had puckered his lips without hesitation, like he had been waiting on that moment for a while.

The fact that they had kissed wasn't really the problem though, it was the after-affect of it. What that kiss symbolised to Graham was that he would never be brave enough to initiate anything with Damon unless he had an excessive amount of alcohol pumping through his system, and that knowledge was stifling.

Graham knew from that night onwards that his unspoken feelings for the singer were somewhat reciprocated, and something about knowing that was slowly tearing him apart. He could never deal with the idea of fancying someone without it slowly consuming him, and judging by the way that merely being in Damon's presence now made him twitchy and anxious was driving him up the wall. That's why he had buried these thoughts beneath layers and layers of denial within his mind. Only now had he actually had a moment of silence to think things through properly, and in between the buzzing, cheering, ear-ringing sounds that he had become accustomed to when the band toured, the silence was welcomed by the guitarist like an old friend.

Graham's train of thought was interrupted when he heard the distant sound of a door slamming, and the clumsiness with which it was shut could only mean that the others were back from the pub. He took a sharp intake of breath, readying himself for the interaction.

Damon entered the green room first, stumbling a little towards the table before he stood, leaning on the back of the chair next to Graham. Graham continued to bite his nails, subtly watching the singer through his peripheral vision. With his drunkenness dulling his senses, Damon took a moment to collect himself before he addressed Graham in a cheery tone. "Alright Graham?", he asked, clumsily patting the guitarist on the back.

Graham pursed his lips, forcing a smile when Damon looked to him. The rest of the band entered after that, accompanied by the usual group of managers and production assistants. Damon swayed a little as he ran a hand through his scruffy hair, and Graham hadn't failed to notice that the singer was still intently watching him. He feigned ignorance though, and gave a smile when Dave and Alex joined them at the table.

"Why have you been such a miserable sod lately Gram? You missin' home or something?", Damon mumbled, pulling out a chair and sitting on it backwards, his legs spread widely. He quickly tilted it towards Graham, his blue eyes studying the guitarist's profile. Graham began to anxiously twist a piece of hair at the crown of his head.

"Well-", Graham began, but hesitated momentarily when he noticed he hadn't yet planned out what he was going to say. "Oi! Graham!". Alex's voice cut through the fleeting silence from the other side of the table, and the guitarist couldn't help but let out a small sigh of relief at the singer's difered attention. "You should've seen Damon fall over a traffic cone outside the pub earlier. Top notch comedy", Alex grinned. Damon immediately threw a stray wine cork at the giggling bassist in return, letting out a loud laugh when Alex managed to dodge it.

"Shut up, you", Damon mumbled, feigning annoyance. During all of this, David had pulled a stray desk chair out from the corner of the room and sat on it, spinning idly. He gave Graham a curious look as he spun. "What you been up to Graham? You've been here hours", he asked. Graham looked up at him after a few moments, still hyper aware of Damon's gaze from beside him. "Just sitting around...", he responded vaguely, before looking to one of the production assistants behind him. "We have to go on soon don't we?". When the assistant nodded, everyone gradually began to get up from their chairs and get ready, except for Damon, who strangely remained seated.

As the others got up and ready for the gig, Graham noticed Damon eying up the wine bottle the guitarist had been drinking from. "Is this yours?", Damon asked, pointing to it. "Yeah..feel free though", Graham responded back. Damon immediately took a large swig, exhaling loudly when he placed the wine bottle back onto the table. Graham had turned away at that point, talking briefly to a production assistant.

It was when that exchange had finished however, that Graham felt a hand meet his lower back. The guitarist turned a little to see who it was, although from its intimate positioning he definitely had a good idea. Damon looked to him from behind, and when he saw he had the guitarist's attention his hand naturally fell back to his side. Although the way it had lingered made Graham's heart lurch. "Are you sure you're okay?", Damon inquired in a hushed tone, eyes carefully studying the man before him.

Graham awkwardly scratched his arm, but turned around fully to face the singer. He decided to lower his voice to mirror Damon's, and suddenly the whole thing felt very personal. Why was Damon suddenly so concerned? "I-I'm fine", Graham voiced, maintaining eye contact despite his slight jitteriness. Clearly Graham was hiding how he really felt, but he also didn't know how to even begin to explain.. _epecially_ not in a public setting like this. The noise of the others chatting and general buzz of the stage production assistants setting up was too loud for Graham to think.

Damon looked at the guitarist with subtle concern, somehow sensing Graham wasn't entirely comfortable. The singer softly gripped Graham's lower arm, and Graham looked down at it in slight confusion before hesitantly returning to the singer's gaze. Damon then leaned ever so slightly into the other man's ear, his sandy blonde hair falling a little over his eyes as he lowered his voice even more. "Come with me", he whispered, before gently pulling Graham's arm as he strode off.

Graham was confused, but he allowed the singer to lead him, albeit with a slight astounded stumble. He would always let Damon take the lead...perhaps to his own detriment. Damon led him towards the exit of the green room, pushing hard on the security door to open it. Graham stumbled ever so slightly as Damon pulled him through, looking around him for a sign as to where the steadfast singer was taking him.

Damon didn't betray anything, and this fact could have been frustrating, if it were not for the fact that Graham was secretly loving the way the singer gently gripped his arm and gave him a look every so often as they walked. They hadn't even talked much, but something new within Graham told him that perhaps they didn't need to.

Damon took the quizzical guitarist down a small corridor, and lines of square ceiling lights above them cast their yellow glow in fragments, continuously illuminating their faces before casting them in darkness. Damon seemed to slow down towards the end of the hallway, and Graham used his free hand to scratch his head when he saw them approach the men's toilets.

All of this was so out of the blue. Damon had hardly spoken to Graham for the past few days, and suddenly he was doing...this. Really, even _now_ the singer was hardly talking, but the energy between them felt different today, and Graham couldn't quite put his finger on how. Damon looked slightly restless, but then again..he always did. In front of the cameras he seemed so suave, so relaxed, with his deep voice and the way he smiles as if a smile is a viable answer to a question...as if he is something beyond words.

When he's out of the public eye however, Damon is a firecracker, constantly on the verge of bursting into fragments; A loose canon of ideas. With Graham being so introverted, it always confused him that Damon could be so the opposite, and yet so in tune with reality at the same time. The man was practically a question mark in the guitarist's mind, despite knowing him for years. That's got to be an achievement somehow, on Damon's part of course.

However, right now Damon looked more resolute than he ever had in front of Graham, as he pushed open the toilet door and led Graham in before him with a confident smile. Graham shoved down the urge to figure this out, and with a small gulp, the guitarist tentatively walked in, soon turning to face the singer when they were both stood in the empty room and the door had shut behind them.

The bar light above them whirred quietly in the background, and Graham looked up at the singer, who quickly stepped closer to him, his scuffed brogues tapping against tiled flooring. Graham couldn't contain himself for much longer, and after a moment he hesitantly broke the silence. "Erm...Why have you led me to the toilets, Damon?", he asked, his higher voice betraying his anticipation.

Damon suddenly let out a chuckle, which soon became a laugh that echoed slightly within the room. Graham shoved down the urge to shush him. What if the others found out they were here? Damon brushed back his hair before he answered, relaxed as ever. "I think you know, Gram".

With that, Damon reached out and took hold of the guitarist's hand, the action was quick, but the grip was gentle. When Damon's thumb began to move back and forth along Graham's hand, Graham couldn't help but reciprocate, holding Damon's hand tightly. Graham soon became aware of how sweaty his own palms were, but Damon didn't seem to mind.

Graham couldn't help but think _what now?_ as he stared up at the singer. He was far too nervous to initiate anything. He could with girls, because that's what society expects him to do. However this was something the guitarist hadn't experienced before, and so he trepidatiously put the control in Damon's hands, allowing him time to make the next move, and knowing Damon..he probably already had one planned.

Damon smiled at the feeling of Graham's warm hand in his. Really, he had only reached for the other man's hand to get a bearing of how Graham would receive his affection, and he seemed to have given him the go-ahead. Damon's smile became a toothy grin, that the other man only saw briefly before the singer closed the small gap between them and placed his soft lips onto Graham's.

Graham couldn't help but tense a little at first, and he instinctively clenched his grip on Damon's hand. There was a buzzing feeling in every one of his limbs as Damon kissed him, and although Graham soon kissed back, moving in tandem, his body was practically electric. He could feel the singer's smile on his lips, the way it lingered for a while before dissipating with a small exhale as the kiss climbed in intensity.

Damon unclasped his hand from Graham's and gently placed it on the side of the guitarist's face, softly moving back and forth with his thumb across the space behind Graham's ear. Graham responded to that by placing his hands on Damon's lower waist, letting his thumbs fall behind the singer's chunky leather belt. Their bodies were practically pressed together now, and Graham couldn't help but notice a bulge rub against his inner thigh as they kissed. Something told him to reach out and feel it, but he didn't allow himself to. The moment wasn't quite right.

Damon used his tongue almost expertly. It took Graham back once again to that short tester of a kiss they had shared a few weeks before, where he had felt Damon lean in just a little too much, the tip of his tongue at the centre of Graham's pursed lips. Graham had known that he had broke away earlier than he could have, and this was more than confirmation of that. The need in Damon's energetic kissing stirred up a storm within the guitarist's being, and he responded to the feeling of Damon's delicate tongue with his own passionate rhythm.

Soon enough, Graham released his grip from Damon's belt and encircled the singer's lower back. Damon kissed the other man for a little longer before then breaking from the kiss, breathing heavily. Graham watched with large eyes, noticing how perfectly Damon's sandy blonde hair fell over his eyes. He decided to reach out and push the stray wisps of hair back so the singer could see clearly.

"What is it?", Graham asked. Damon looked about him momentarily, a rather pointless gesture seeing as it was quite clear by the silence that no one was there, before he then locked eyes with Graham once again. "We have five minutes, don't we?", he inquired, to which Graham responded with a quizzical look. "Erm...", Graham vocalised while he sought out his watch. "Yeah, well..actually less than that. We should be backstage right now Damon". The urgency crept into his voice as he spoke. He hadn't been thinking about the time. They were never going to make it..he hadn't even tuned up his guitar.

Graham's anxious thoughts were interrupted when Damon grabbed his shirt collar and slowly began pushing him into the toilet cubicle behind them. The singer pushed back Graham's unruly hair as they walked, and before Graham knew it he was against the cubicle wall, enthralled in yet another deep kiss with the other man.

Damon's breaths were quick and sharp, and every so often he let out a sound that could be nothing other than a low moan. Graham felt his trousers grow tight at the sensation of Damon leaning over him. How domineering he was, with his hands pressed against the cubicle wall either side of the guitarist's head.

Graham judged that this was a better time than any to make a move, and shoving his nervousness to the very back of his mind, the guitarist reached out to feel Damon's bulging crotch. Damon's kissing became sloppy as Graham rubbed slowly through his trousers, tantalisingly up and down the singer's length. This wasn't Damon's first time with a man, and this reflected in the way the singer soon unbuckled his trousers without shame, allowing Graham the opportunity to explore him without the barrier of his jeans.

The guitarist soon broke from the kiss to look down as he gently pulled Damon's dick from out of his boxers. The guitarist then began to stroke up and down at a slow, steady pace, and with every stroke he felt Damon's heavy breaths falling onto his fringe, ruffling his dark brown hair. Graham slightly upped the pace, and Damon groaned deeply, pulling his arms up behind his head. Graham looked up to see the singer in his full glory. The way his eyelids fluttered in pleasure, his slightly parted lips. An image he never thought he would see.

Damon came around to some semblance of coherency as Graham stroked his cock, and soon leant into the guitarist, his breaths still sharp and heavy as he brought up his hand to tilt the other man's head up to look at him. Graham's large eyes locked with Damon's, and his heart instantly thumped within the confines of his chest.

It was extremely intimate, staring up at Damon's face like this, his hair falling over his eyes somewhat perfectly. However, the fact that this was happening in some dingy toilet cubicle before a gig made it feel unimaginably dirty. Graham liked that contrast, and riding his endorphins, pulled Damon in for another kiss as his stroking got increasingly vigorous.

"Fuuck Graham", Damon whispered as he felt himself getting close, momentarily parting from their kiss. Graham took that as a signal to up the pace, and his hand cupped firmer around Damon's dick as it moved up and down the singer's length. Obviously it was working, as Damon's cheeks were flushed pink while his eyes screwed tightly at the horde of sensations Graham was catalalysing within him. Graham stared intensely into the other man's eyes. It felt good to know that what he was doing was pleasing Damon. It felt even better when he realised his hand was moist with the other man's precum.

It wasn't long before Damon hunched himself over Graham, grasping the guitarist with tense fingertips as he came into the other man's hands. Graham rubbed slowly now, relishing in the afterglow, savouring the sound of Damon's heavy breathing feathering slowly towards a stable pace above him. If only they could go further than this. If only they had a bit more time.

_Time_.

Graham couldn't help but inhale a quick, urgently taken breath, and Damon caught onto the other man's panic in an instant. "We need to be on stage", Graham stated, looking down at his watch. Damon clumsily began to fumble with his trousers, pulling them back up with shaking hands. He then clasped Graham's hand, and as the guitarist looked up at him the drunken smirk on Damon's face quickly became apparent.

"We better get fucking going then, Gra".

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little one shot :)


End file.
